


Ends and Means

by Schemilix



Category: Tactics Ogre
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schemilix/pseuds/Schemilix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You did what you had to do. (Non-route specific.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ends and Means

Their war council ends as it always does; with Leonar cowed into submission by Ronwey and sitting in sullen silence until permitted to dismiss. Denam can see his resentment and yet he does not speak. 

So thinking, Denam catches up to him when they leave. Leonar walks always as if he has somewhere to be, which is not unlikely, though Denam often wonders if he walks that way on garden walks or heading to the lavatory. His brisk strides are difficult for Denam, with his shorter legs, to catch up with in a dignified way, but he manages.

”Sir Leonar, if I may?” he asks, silently relieved when the knight stops in his tracks and turns, raising an eyebrow. “Forgive my impertinence, but are you afraid of Ronwey?”

To his surprise Leonar laughs, a dry and humourless one, but a laugh nonetheless. 

”You think I’m afraid of him,” he says, looking up as he does as if querying the gods. “I respect my position, and my oath. Knights are no-one without a master. Men in armour, nothing more. You have the freedom of youth; you are unfettered.” Leonar notices a loose buckle and fixes it as he speaks. “I cannot defy Ronwey.”

Denam nods seriously, thinking on that. Born a child of Golyat, he can but do what comes naturally. Any title he is given is pretence and with it, any semblance of duty. 

”I think I understand.”

”Pander to them. They are born with power we will never possess. Even if you were to take his throne your birth would forbid you the respect offered to him because of the cradle he was first lain in. So no, I do not fear him, though I must respect him. The rest is… merely lubricating the gears of our interactions.”

”You do not speak highly of him.”

“I serve him. That does not mean I think his every decision just, or even sane. You will come to understand that when you reach my age… if you even do.” 

Leonar makes as if to leave, but Denam isn’t finished, and he stops to listen. Denam has a habit of speaking very quietly and doesn’t yet have the strength of voice to make that carry. In order to hear him the feeling is like squinting, but with his ears.

”If I were to do as you, my shackles would become real,” Denam says thoughtfully. “So long as I deny their existence they have no hold over me. Were I to acknowledge them, I would allow them to bind me. Like a cacodemon. Is that not it?”

Leonar looks at him with a kind of surprise. “You’re a smart young man. Probably too smart. You remind me of me, except more agreeable.” He laughs earnestly this time. “And probably more handsome, I barely remember. It is strange how with time we shed skins… the old ones are but a memory. I barely feel the man I was.”

Leonar’s prickly jocularity falls away and he looks at Denam seriously, visibly choosing his words. Denam notices for the first time how sad his eyes look. He wonders if he himself looks innocent or foolish to the man.

”Remember this. I regard my duty with the utmost respect. But some things are more important than duty. You may be asked to do something that you know in your heart is wrong. To do so is a sin, to break oath is a sin. You must only decide which burdens you are happier taking to Hell with you.”

With that Leonar sighs deeply and then shakes his head. “Gods be with you, Denam Pavel,” he says. Denam has nothing more to add except,

”And you, Sir Leonar.” He thinks he can see the weight pressing on those proud shoulders as Leonar walks away.

**Author's Note:**

> Denam, King of Tact!


End file.
